


The Angry River Rises

by ElectraRhodes



Series: The Angry River Rises - AU Dr Plushy Pants AU [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: AU of an AU, Gen, Hannibal still in character, Kaiseki, Memory Issues, Season 2 AU, Very Very Slow Burn, canonical sequence and deaths and cases, encephalitis, like a bonfire that went out, will ooc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-09-26 22:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9924233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectraRhodes/pseuds/ElectraRhodes
Summary: Will wakes up. But all is not as he remembers.Tags will update as the series progresses.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the AU of the Dr Plushy Pants AU for season 2. (That fic is called 'Dreams are like Angels'.)
> 
> Yeah, I know this an Alternative Universe of an Alternative Universe. 
> 
> But hey, in this fandom, why not!
> 
> There are also 'Dr Plushy Pants Time Stamps'
> 
> And a few one shots of the Hannibal from this AU ending up in the other AU, in a teacup bending way, called 'where there is a Will'.

You know that moment when you wake up and you just have no clue at all where you are, or what you're doing there? And then you remember that you're staying with your cousin and that's why the window is in the wrong place and you tried to get out of bed on the wrong side. This is what it's like for Will. Except much worse. He's in hospital and his shoulder is absolutely killing him. Again.

He looks around, seems like a normal hospital room. Not quite the same as the one he remembers going to sleep in last time, oh, maybe it isn't that one, he had to go to some scene. Gideon. Yeah. Ok. Then he realises his arm is handcuffed on one side, to the bed.

What the very merry fuck? It's the same side as his bad shoulder. The one he got stabbed in when he was still a cop. Weird. Using his left hand he gently prods at it. Has he been shot? That could be why it hurts so much. Has he got pain meds? He twists round to see what the note on the IV says but he hasn't got his glasses and can't quite read it. There's a call button so he decides maybe he'll give that a go.

A nurse comes in 'Dr Graham? Glad you're awake, what did you want?'

'Err. Pain meds, for the shoulder maybe. What's the rest of the stuff? For the encephalitis?'

'What encephalitis?'

'I've got encephalitis. It was being treated'

The nurse grabs the clip board at the bottom of his bed. He frowns 

'there's nothing in your history. I'm going to get your doctor. Call Agent Crawford too. He wanted to be notified when you were awake'.

He's gone before Will can ask him any more. This is a bit weird. He's faintly surprised that Hannibal isn't here or there isn't a card or something. There were cards before. And flowers. Strange. And damn the nurse didn't do anything about the meds.

He lies in bed and just waits. Ok. At least his head isn't totally killing him. That's got to be good hasn't it? He mulls over the various things he remembers. Oh. Shit. He shot Gideon. But Alana was ok. Ok, that's good. And they saved the Freddies. That's good Jimmy will be pleased. Mischa too.

A doctor arrives. A nice woman who Will doesn't remember from before, she sits down on the chair beside the bed

'Dr Graham, I've been told you believe you have encephalitis. Is that correct?'

He blinks at her. God this is like the gas lighting thing with those students, when he ended up so confused he didn't know if he was coming or going. He ventures 

'yeah. I was being treated. They did a scan. They thought auto-immune to start with, and then decided it was viral. Is it not on my records? You could ask my doctor, Donald Sutcliffe?'

She gives him a funny look 'Ok I'll ask about that. Maybe you don't know this but Dr Sutcliffe is dead. He was killed quite recently. In the hospital. By the girl who killed that woman out in a Delaware. She was being treated here too'

Will interrupts 'Sorry? What? Donald is dead? And wait. Was being treated? What happened to Georgia Madchen?'

'There was an accident with her oxygen tent. I'm sorry. But she's dead too. I'm sorry if you don't remember this. I know you were involved in looking into the case. Look, I'll follow through on the encephalitis, you know how it is. Records! Can you tell me what they symptoms have been?'

Although somewhat shell shocked, Will pulls himself together and goes through his litany of disaster from the last few months. The doctor frowns.

'Alright. Hemispatial neglect, that's easy to test, draw me a clock face'

She hands a pad to Will who draws what to him looks normal and to the doctor looks like a crescent moon with the numbers sliding off the right hand side of the clock like an oil spill.

'Alright. We'll send you for an MRI. And then I understand Agent Crawford will want to see you'

'Ok. Thanks. Is there anyone else waiting?'

'No. not at present. There's a guard on the door, is that who you mean?'

Will just looks at her, what is this? Why has he got a guard? And why isn't Hannibal here?

................

Jack arrives looking sobered and frustrated. It's a look with which Will is familiar.

'Will. This is a sorry state of things. The Doc says you think you've got encephalitis. Is that what you're going with?'

'I have. I've been being treated. You know this'

Jack rubs his tired face. He only makes himself look tireder.

'Do the drugs affect your memory? What do you remember?'

'About Gideon? I shot him. He was going to hurt Alana. What's going on Jack?'

'So you don't remember Minnesota?'

'I haven't been there since Elise Nicholls was killed'

'You went there. With Abigail Hobbs. She's missing. You vomited up her ear Will. Her actual ear. We took you in after that. You escaped. Took Dr Lecter back to Minnesota, made him drive. You nearly killed him. It was me who shot you. To stop you from killing him.'

'Hannibal!? What do you mean I nearly killed him? Where is he now? This isn't right. It isn't. I don't know why you're saying this. It's not true'

'Will calm down. Calm down. Shit, I'll get one of the nurses. Hey, hey, could do with some help in here'

Several members of staff rush in and Will is sedated. His last conscious thoughts run something like 'oh no, not again'.

...............

'He says he's had encephalitis for months, that it was being treated. His memory is totally shot. He remembers some things and not others, or he's got them the wrong way round. Or they're just completely made up'

'Jack, if he's having an ongoing disassociative episode he may not be able to put it all back together properly. It's not surprising his psyche is trying to protect him like this. The mind is a powerful force that will marshal all its defences against attack'

'But he's right about the encephalitis Hannibal. They said it's nasty and quite advanced. It would explain a number of the symptoms he's been expressing'

'Of course Alana. I simply mean he may not be able to tell if what he says as a result is accurate or not. He is an unreliable narrator of his own story.'

'So, just how much can we expect him to recall, Dr Lecter?'

'With therapy? Maybe a considerable amount. But it is hard to say at these early stages. Once he is released from hospital it should be clearer'

'He's only going to be released into the BSCHI. The AG says there's enough evidence to connect him not only to Abigail Hobb's murder but to at least one of the copycat murders too'

'No! I don't believe that'

'I'm sorry Alana. But. It's clear that..!

'Shut up. Stop talking. I don't want to hear this. I don't believe this'

.................

Late that evening Beverly Katz is despatched to the hospital to ask Will about his fly fishing materials.

'Will. Hi. Sorry to see you like this.'

'Bev! Thank gods. I'm so pleased to see you. Something really weird is going on'

Beverly looks at him. She quite likes Will. He's a bit odd and very grumpy, but he can be sweet and funny too. They're not really close but she could imagine being friends with him. Maybe. Under different circumstances.

'Alright. Jack told me some of your memory had gone wrong. How wrong? What do you remember about me?'

Will laughs, 'oh you're hilarious! I know everything about you! And that was before you started seeing Beau. Gods. Your sister. Your parents. Your grandmother. Stella. You and Alana. The science bros, even though Brian's seeing those Opera people. What do you want to know?'

'Who's Beau?'

Will looks at her 'not funny Bev. You know the while gas lighting thing. And the stuff with the encephalitis'

'Jack said you'd had it for months. Why didn't you say anything?'

'But I did. You've visited me in hospital. With Beau. He's my dad'

'Will. Look. I don't know what's happened. But I think your memory has gone badly wrong. I don't know anyone called Beau. I thought your dad was dead. That's what you said during the Lost Boys case'

'Beverly! Oh my gods' Will can't say anything more, he struggles and eventually manages 'I trust you Bev. Please'

She looks at him, all compassion and a kind of fierce tenderness

'Ok Will. Let's not do this now. But I'll see if I can help you remember. Or at least, you can tell me what you remember and I'll tell you if you're right or not. Ok. I won't lie to you. There's going to be some messy stuff'

He nods, quite close to tears 'who else can I ask?'

She sighs a bit 'probably Dr Bloom, I think she's sort of a friend of yours. Though it's a bit difficult' 

Will doesn't want to ask her why 'any one else?'

'If you hadn't tried to shoot him I'd have said Dr Lecter. You and he hang out together quite a bit. You were just seeing him for psych sessions but you sort of seem quite tight'

'Nothing more than that though?'

'No. I wouldn't say so. I think I'd know. You keep things close to your chest. I think he's quite sort of fond of you. He's nice to you. Why?'

'Will you keep it to yourself?'

'If it's not pertinent to the case, sure'

'Do you promise Bev, I have to have someone I can trust' she nods 'alright Will. I promise'

'In my memory he and I got together round about Christmas time. It'd sort of been building for quite a few months. But everyone knew. I mean. I see you socially. A lot. And Z and Jimmy. I'd have said we were really close friends'

'Ok. That sounds nice. It's not true. But it's a sweet idea. Maybe you have been seeing Dr L, but kept it quiet? Maybe your subconscious is just trying to get you to admit it?'

'I don't know. I'm not sure. You say you're not seeing Beau. I can't get my head round this. Look I hadn't seen him for about 20 years and then he got in touch after the Abigail Hobbs thing when she got her dad killed'

'You shot him'

'I did. She set him up to take the fall for those girls. Except for the copycat. That wasn't him'

'Will. That's not quite what happened'

'Oh god. I haven't got any of it right have I? Fucking hell. What's going on. What's happening to me. I'm not this kind of crazy. Really. I'm not'

'They do think you've got encephalitis'

'And that's what I'm hanging on to right now. This is like a terrible dream. Or rather, that I was having a great dream and now I've woken up. I don't like this one bit. But I'm grateful Bev. Really. Tell me what you wanted to know? I know Jack sent you.'

...............

Hannibal Lecter stands beside one of his therapy chairs in his Baltimore office. This is normally the hour when Will Graham would show up for his session. Of course he won't be tonight. Hannibal is debating whether to go and see Will in the hospital or wait for his removal to the BSCHI. Probably better to wait until his mind has stabilised, otherwise it'd just be so much wasted effort. Interesting how compromised his memory is. Though probably not his wit.

Hannibal walks over to a sideboard and takes out a glass and a half bottle of wine. He opens it, takes a slow breath of the bouquet through his nose, smiles and pours it into the glass. He walks back to the chair he usually prefers and seats himself. 

Will Graham. Satisfactory progress so far. Though the BSCHI might be somewhat stressful for a mind as delicately poised as Will's. And such a mind, and such a person to match it. Well, the opening salvos have been launched. And the games have begun. With any luck, if Hannibal believed in such a thing, he is all foresight and careful planning, it will now be more interesting because Will will know there is a game to be played. 

Hannibal scents his glass and runs it along his bottom lip. Which he licks and then sucks into his mouth, savouring the taste. Just to help the glide. Oh he has such plans for Special Agent Will Graham. He's been a worthy innocent adversary, he will be a worthy interlocutor. And just maybe a worthy partner, an equal. Oh that there could be such a person. Unparalleled in Hannibal Lecter's experience. He takes another sip. And smiles. His secret smile. To be read only in the corner of his eyes, and a slight tightening of his nostrils


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Will Is taken to the BSCHI various people consider his fate and the fallout from season 1.

'He says he wants to see you. I'm not sure if that's a good idea or not'

Hannibal smiles slightly as he places a carefully plated dish in front of Jack 'this is Kaiseki, the Japanese celebration of the taste and aesthetic of what we eat'

'I sometimes feel guilty about that'

'I never feel guilty about anything I eat. I last prepared this for my aunt Murasaki. A long time ago now. That too was also a meal honouring a loss'

Jack heaves another big sigh.

'Jack. We are both mourning this loss, grieving Will,' Hannibal fetches a bottle of white wine from the cooler and pours for Jack. Jack is more of a red wine man but he'll accept this pairing.

'Will's death is on me. I set him off and let him run'

'Your bloodhound?'

Jack sighs again, focuses on his food. Hannibal revels in this symphony of grief 'what lovely presentation. I can't quite place the fish'

'He was a flounder' Hannibal smiles slightly. Takes a small and carefully curated mouthful, hmm, it is good.

'My bloodhound that went mad. Accused you, before he attacked you.'

'It is in my interest then, that you investigate thoroughly. Clear me from your table' he holds his glass up in a small toast, Jack reciprocates.

'Whatever else we find, I do know we can't define Will by his empathy alone any more'

'We can't define him at all'

Jack doesn't reply. Hannibal eats another mouthful. Quite perfect.

..............

Will is waiting to be transferred. He's moving from the prison hospital ward to the BSCHI. He doesn't really know whether to laugh or cry. Apparently Chilton is back in harness. Great, Chilton attempting to fumble around in his brain. Like a freshman with a pantygirdle. Is that a quote? Will thinks it must be from somewhere. 

He's seen precisely Bev and Jack. And that's it. No one else. Eventually he caves and after seeing Jack three times he asks if Hannibal could come and see him. He can see that Jack is reluctant. If he really did try to shoot him then that's maybe not so surprising. Somehow he has this feeling that just maybe if he actually saw Hannibal somehow he could work out really what's going on.

When Bev visited in her own time he went through as much as he could remember of the first couple of months of their friendship. Even Bev admitted that Will knew things she didn't think he could know. But he didn't know some pretty important things too. They're a bit bemused by it. If Will wasn't about to go into an asylum he might even see some humour in it. He did when he was being gaslighted, but really this is worse. He feels isolated, alone, and worse still lonely. This isn't what his life is like. Sure it used to be quiet before Jack got him into the field but still a kind of comfortable.

This isn't. This is horrible. He'd hoped Alana might come. Bev says she's heard from Jack that she's considering it. Bev and she don't know each other very well. Will can't tell if this is what finally convinces him he's lost the plot. Something does. Over the course of the day he realises he has to unlearn everything he thinks he knows, about himself, his life, his family, friends. Everything. He's starting from scratch almost.

But not quite. Some things remain, he's still kind, empathic, good with people one to one if they're not dead! Or killing someone. He still loves dogs (puppies, yay), he's still mostly gay, even though Bev says she knows he had a thing for Alana. He nearly bursts out that it was the other way round. But maybe it wasn't here. Maybe that's why she's staying away. 

He's still from the south, used to be police, got stabbed. He still likes southern food. He feels like he likes cooking, reading, classical music. He still lives in Wolf Trap. He'd love to go and see the house, see if it's different or the same or what. He whistles a bit from the Magic Flute. He could sing great chunks. Maybe not here, not now. Don't piss off the prison ward orderlies. He's been lucky to be out of the general population here. Let's not have an accident before he gets moved.

He thinks about all the other stuff he needs to check with Bev. Really she's already doing more than might be expected of her. 

................

'You went to see Will again?'

'Yeah Z, I did'

'What was that like? He still pulling the I remember nothing and no one stunt?'

'Seems as though if he was going to pull any stunt that's not a bad one to go for'

Zeller and Jimmy Price bump fists. Bev decides not to tell them that no one does that anymore except middle aged geeks.

'There's a lot he does remember. And some he doesn't. But he has encephalitis. His brain's on fire. That's not going to help on top of everything else is it?'

'Alright Bev. Do you want one of us to come next time? Would he like that? I know he's not keen on me but you know. In extremis and everything?'

'Jimmy he might. That'd be nice of you. Thanks. Z, Count you in too?'

'Sure. If they'll let us all in together. Why not. See what the great empath is doing in the BSCHI with the other crazies'

'Z?'

'What?'

'Be a bit nicer. Even if he has done something awful, he's our colleague, he's in a bad way. Don't be a shit about it. You're better than that'

'Yeah. Alright. Sorry'  
...........

'Will Graham has expressed a wish to see me' Hannibal is seated opposite Bedelia in her living room in her home. She no longer practices except for this one insistent patient and colleague.

'And this wish Hannibal, demonstrates that he is still hoping to manipulate you' oh he's always interesting albeit sometimes calculating. Still, she can usually give as good as she gets.

'I want to see him. I miss him' he uncrosses his legs and recrosses them the other way. Bedelia doesn't mirror his actions.

'And your hope to see him indicates your willingness to manipulate him, and be manipulated in turn'

'I'm curious still, about the way he thinks' Hannibal has rehearsed his reasons just in case anyone asked. He often rehearses those things that assist him to fit in. Make him the most human and plausible.

'And he is influencing you still. You are becoming obsessed with Will Graham' he frowns just very slightly. He knows he is guilty of what one of his younger patients calls "mention-itis" when you can't help but talk about your current focus. Or obsession.

'I am intrigued by him'

'You are intrigued, obsessively'

'He is my friend?' Hannibal has tried that word out a few times in relation to Will Graham. It always feels odd to try and get his mouth to fit round the word. Friend. Friendship. Friendly. Difficult. But he is practising. 

'Why? Why is he your friend?'

'His mind is extraordinary, his capacity to absorb the grotesque, the things he cannot repress..'

'And what things can't you repress Hannibal?'

He smiles. Bedelia is good. She is possibly the person with whom he is most open. Perfecting as he does his person suit. Tailoring it more closely. So there are no unseemly gapes or sags.

Onwards

..............

He's now in a horrible dark cell with a stripped mattress, no natural light, walls on three sides, a concrete floor, bars on the fourth wall. There's a toilet and basin. There's a desk bolted to the floor and a chair, also bolted. And that's it. He's farthest from the doors to this floor. Right at the end of the corridor. Is that a good thing? He's not sure yet. It means he only has someone on one side. A semi-detached cell. 

Good. He feels semi-detached. It's a good visual metaphor. Maybe Hannibal would like that. He's trying so hard not to store up little things to tell him. Like he normally does. Little incidents, observations, jokes. The meat and potatoes of the everyday. Even though this isn't. He's clinging to what he remembers of normal. He could go mad here. Maybe he already has. Maybe he already has.

He sits on the bed and pulls his feet up under him, leans against the wall. Leans his head back and closes his eyes. Chilton told him that Hannibal might come by this evening. Will is both terrified and optimistic. At present terrified is winning. But just seeing him. Oh. 

He hears the doors at the end of the corridor go and the buzzer which sounds when someone comes onto the floor. How quickly do the sounds and rhythms sink in. People get institutionalised so fast. It's why Mischa is so unusual. Mischa? God. Is she even here in this world? Chiyoh. Any of Hannibal's family. The aunt and uncle in Japan. Shit. He pulls himself forward until he's sitting on the edge trying to school his face. Trying to keep calm.

Someone is walking down the corridor. Outside his cell. Will doesn't swivel his eyes. He stands up and turns and faces Hannibal. 

'Hello Will'

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. It isn't him. It isn't him. It isn't the right one. This is a different Hannibal. Oh god. No no no no no. No.

'Hello Dr Lecter' he sounds strained even to himself. Angry. Not resigned, something else, bitter. He sounds bitter.

And this Hannibal smiles. Not even just a tightening, with his mouth and eyes. He properly smiles.

Bastard.

..............

 

Hours later Will is lying on his mattress. He closes his eyes. He doesn't have a mind palace like his Hannibal but he has the stream. He sees it. Wades out into its quiet. Casts a fly across the water, and again. Waits, lets the river run by him. You cannot step into the same river once. A koan for his troubled night. A salve. A balm against the darkness and the encroaching shadows.

He sees the stag. On the shore, on the far river bank. Ahead of him. It stands and watches him. Breathes. The flames he saw before are gone. This stag is in his prime. Beautiful and terrible. He watches it back. The stag doesn't leave, just waits. They are both waiting. Will is good at waiting. He is patient. And silent. Silence holds no fears for him. Stillness. Even in the pain.

In the morning Will's breakfast is brought by an orderly. He doesn't pay much attention at first and then he looks more carefully. Orderlies are like gods here. He should propitiate all that he will interact with regularly. When the man comes back to collect his breakfast Will realises who it is.

Matthew Brown. It says Brown on the pocket of his tunic. He doesn't show any sign of ever having met Will.

For the first time Will wonders if not all the cards are against him. What ever this game is, maybe he can play. Maybe.

............

 

Jack and Alana have just been to see Kade Prurnell. Overall? It didn't go well. Though Jack seems unusually willing to take what he's given in the way of reprimand. Perhaps the starkness of the situation and the grimness of the BSCHI both serve to remind him of his part in the breaking of Will Graham. He met with Chilton earlier. Got taken round the facilities. Can they really be called facilities. He saw the cages. He shudders at the thought.

'Dr Bloom, are you going to see Will?'

'Not yet. I'm still too angry. It won't help him'

'He might be glad to see a friendly face'

'I don't feel friendly. I feel furious. Not at him. Yes at him. And at what's happened to him which he was complicit in. He should have walked away. We told him to walk away'

'I gave him the out and he didn't take it'

'Because he was saving lives?'

'Yes. And he was. Always'

'Not his Jack. Not his. I can't forgive that Jack. You or him. Not yet'

....................


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will works out how to cope with the BSCHI, Team Sassy Science work out how to deal with the 'new' Will Graham. Matthew Brown works out how to deal with the latest 'patient'.

'I saw Dr Lecter. He came in. Took his DNA that kind of shit. We've got a lot of very nice personalised suits to go over. Bespoke. Will? Are you listening to me?'

'I am Bev. I'm listening. Why is he being tested? Did he do something?'

'He cooked Jack an impossibly swanky meal, sushi, sea urchin, that kind of shit. Served one of the dishes over ice. Ostentatious. Jack said the taste was out of this world. It's a bit sick making'

'The food? Hannibal makes amazing food' 

Will grimaces to himself, even here, even now, he is fucking being nice about Hannibal, defending him. God this is rubbish.

Bev gets back to it, 'No. Jack. He kind of fawns over Dr Lecter. Like he's getting attention from the nicest teacher in school. It feels like grovelling. I don't like it' 

she gives an almighty sigh. She's talked her way in to see Will under the guise of a further discussion about his fishing flies. She's not sure how long this particular line will hold up to scrutiny, but she'll flog it to death. In a bizarre way it's kind of nice hanging out with Will, down here in the cool and dimly lit basement. A bit like being in an aquarium she suddenly thinks. Is this why they're called tanks?

'He and Jack discussed your accusations. Over the meal. He said it's in his interest to be thoroughly investigated, and cleared, obviously'

'Obviously' Will echoes her.

'Yeah. Right. I hope it gave them both indigestion. What do you think happened Will? I want to believe you, but the ear?'

'Bev. I know this is hard, believe me, but I don't know, I can't remember what he did, what I did. I wasn't there'

'This is your weird dream theory isn't it? I've got to say it's a bit thin. You and Abigail Hobbs were pretty tight. You might have taken her somewhere, you were an official guardian, you and Dr Lecter'

'I know it's thin. I just don't have anything else. Not a thing. I think, and this is all I've been able to put together from the scraps from you and Jack and a particularly unpleasant interview with Chilton, and a singularly awful visit from Dr Lecter himself, that somehow I've been set up for the Copycat kills, as well as for Abigail's death'

'What happened with Lecter?'

'He came in, stood where you're sitting and said hello to me and then smiled. Proper smile, mouth and a bit of eyes. Hell of a thing. He didn't say anything else he just stood there. Eye contact the whole time. I thought I'd break first. But eventually he just sort of leant forwards a bit and said 'well done Will' and it was like he was fucking patting me on the head. Smug as anything. Gloating. When he'd gone I threw up a bit. I felt like, oh I don't know. Betrayed. He behaved like I should feel desperate. And he's right. I do'

'What a tosser. He was all smarmy with me. All, oh you're so clever and what wonderful things you do, all certainty and definitive. Creeped me out. I thought he was alright before. But now? I'm seeing him a bit differently'

Will stands up and comes closer to the bars

'Bev, be careful. Don't let him know that. Don't change your behaviour to him. At all. And don't tell him you've been to see me. Don't. I don't know if he's involved, not yet. But I don't like how this is all sounding'

'You and your thing is it?'

'Not entirely, but it's something to be careful of. I mean it'

'Yeah. Alright then. Z and Jimmy are going to come and visit'

'Really? That's great. I'd be really pleased to see them'

'Will' 

she sounds calm and neutral, like a teacher he had in kindergarten when he got overtaxed by people and needed to sit down with his head on the desk feigning sleep, just so he could be on his own. That teacher had been great. 

'Will, they're probably not how you think they are. How do you think they are?'

'Nice, friendly, smart, they were an item for a bit. Not now'

'Ok. They're not an item, never have been. They should be! But Z is too scared'

'Why?'

'Family approval? Internalised homophobia? Religious reasons, his family is pretty observant? Age gap? I don't know. He won't listen to me about it'

'What about Jimmy?'

'Too laid back. Doesn't want the conflict. Doesn't want to be with someone who might be ashamed of him'

'Wow. Ok. Smart of him. Good for his mental health, probably?'

'Yeah. Sad though. Both of them'

'Yeah. In my world they're both really lovely. Sweet. Amicable split'

'Are we going to keep saying this "my world" thing?'

'It's all I can hang on to to make sense of it Bev, honestly'

'Ok. Just don't tell your lawyer. Otherwise they'll definitely have you committed permanently. Do you know how hard it is to overturn convictions based on mental health assessments like the ones you'd get. Shit you might get them anyway'

'I know. I'm only saying it to you. Thanks. I'm grateful. I know you're sticking your neck out'

'Alright. Let's just hope I don't get my head chopped off for my efforts' they smile weakly at each other.

............

'Well hot damn! This is a mess. What do ya think did this an all?'

'Someone dynamiting beaver damns maybe? Lot of floating stuff? Small shit? Typical beaver building materials'

'Yeah, maybe. Where do you want to start?'

The two men are in waterproofs and chest waders, they are both hoisting long poles clear of the water as they move steadily along upstream towards a small weir, the outfall currently blocked by an assortment of debris.

'You go up there a bit, clear off to the side, I'll keep it all moving down here'

His co-worker grunts assent and then makes a start using the pole to unblock anything caught under the surface. He pushes hard, meets some resistance, and then plop, a body, decayed, mottled yellow and purple, rises to the surface, bobs, probably because of the gasses the body is releasing as it decays. There's some kind of glaze. The man in the waders jumps back as fast as he can, as weighed down as he is.

As he moves back he dislodges another body and another. He can't keep his feet he is so desperate to get away. Yelling as he goes under, taking a mouthful of putrid water as he does so. He desperately clambers to his feet and almost throws himself downstream closer to his colleague.

'What the?'

'Shit I swallowed some of that. Do you think it's poisoned? Is it poisoned? Am I going to die?'

They get back to the bank and get their waders and coveralls off. They both feel sick. The bodies haven't gone too far, caught now on the surface. A couple more have appeared.

When the local PD turn up the guy gets out of his car, takes one look and calls the local field office of the FBI

'Feds are coming. You better stay put. They got a doc coming to test for immediate contaminants. Make sure you're not going to drop dead on the spot' 

The other men, especially the one who drank the river aren't really re-assured by any of this. They will both have dreams about this, nightmares. Repeatedly. Even though their friends at work will tease them mercilessly every time someone goes out to clear a beaver dam, because they do.

..........

'Where are we going?'

'Rockville Maryland. Yippee kay yay motherfuckers. It's only what, 90 minutes on the I 95? We don't even have to do an overnight!' 

All three of Team Sassy Science have go bags as well as a trolley of kit to take downstairs to the garages and their SUV.

'Ok. Have you seen the pictures though? They're pretty shit. Have we got the waders?'

'No, local fisheries dept is bringing some or wildlife and ag. someone'

'It won't be me, they never have my size' Bev smiles, sometimes being the woman in the team works in her favour. Just a little bit. Not often. But sometimes.

'Look none of us is the Incredible Hulk. Let's just see the scene in person'

'Jack's getting Dr Lecter in. Be the new Will Graham and everything'

'Jack is all business. Remind me never to stop being useful'

They all pause in loading the SUV and look at Jimmy. This is not a pleasant thought. Brian and Jimmy have agreed to come and see Will with Bev. She's emphasised that he seems a bit different since the encephalitis is being treated, that they should be open minded. 

Will might be a bit of a dick, but what Jimmy's said is a good reminder that Jack takes no prisoners where work and his own personal obsession with the Chesapeake Ripper are concerned. Actually. That's the problem. He has yet to take any prisoners. Will is a step in the right direction. Well. In his mind anyway. Also in Hannibal Lecter's.

..............

Dr Lecter ducks under the crime scene tape. If he had known what consulting on Will Graham's profile would bring him all those months previously he would have put himself in the line of sight of Jack Crawford long ago. Of course Will has proved to be a special case of extraordinary interest, but access of any kind would have been, and is fascinating.

He's following Beverly Katz he realises. She's sharp and smart. Feisty? She hadn't been quite immune to his friendliness in the lab, but there's a wariness there too. Is she close with Will Graham? Will never mentioned her in session, except after the lost boys case. Maybe it is just natural caution concerning a new colleague. 

They seem a tight little team. Jimmy Price now, he seems friendly, not immune to some charm. Brian Zeller, a little defensive, and probably not immune to some praise if he thinks it's justified. He could lose respect for someone who praised randomly. It's probably why Dr Zeller hungers so much for Jack Crawford's approval. Hannibal has yet to hear Jack praise anyone directly. Maybe Will, just once. And Will had been hostile about it.

Another one who isn't interested in blandishments. What is he interested in, really, deep down? He'd said he didn't think Hannibal was interesting. He's probably re-visiting that thought right now. Hannibal sticks his hand out as he approaches Jack Crawford

'Thank you for coming out, Dr Lecter'

'What can I do for you Jack?'

'I'm hoping you'd prepare us a psychological profile'

And so it goes. The first of his solo consultations with the FBI. At some point he catches Beverly's eye and smiles at her. She smiles back slightly. Later she makes sure to offer him coffee in the round up of orders from a local deli. So. Either welcoming him into the little cabal. Or. Something else entirely. So interesting Ms Katz. Are you playing too? He wonders.

................

Will is revisiting that thought right now, about whether Hannibal is interesting or not. He's sitting in one of the awful cages where inmates (fuck he's not going to call them, alright, him, patients, this place doesn't deserve the designation hospital), where inmates sit or stand and talk to their therapist or visitor, or who ever. If ever he felt claustrophobic, this is the moment. He swallows hard. It is like some particularly awful art installation. Really terrible.

Frederick Chilton has been droning on about various things for a good ten minutes. Will has barely paid attention. He knows he should. It could all be useful in helping him build a picture of this world. Understand the relationships, the narratives. The history. It's odd. The people are still here, but it's all jumbled up. One of Will's challenges is that he didn't find Chilton that interesting in the life before!

'What? What are you talking about Frederick?'

'You are, after all in my hospital Will'

'I'm not talking to you'

'I think you'll find that you are'

God thinks Will, what are they? Thirteen or something. Yeah. This Chilton arrested at about fourteen. Hasn't got past there. Ok. That makes him easier to deal with. Will looks at him, what does Chilton want? Acceptance? Approval? Recognition? Here he is, director of a reasonably sized institution, known, even if not universally respected by his peers. A survivor too. Having lost a few organs to the scalpel of Abel Gideon, under local anaesthetic and everything. 

This was one of the first conversations he had with Matthew Brown, all about how Will had saved Alana Bloom and shot Abel Gideon. Like an avenging angel. Will thinks he was probably more like an avenging incoherent half crazed zombie. But there had been an admiring tone in Matthew Brown's voice that Will decided he wouldn't undercut.

Up close he can see that Matthew is attractive in an obvious and somehow hard (no, not like that) kind of way. Will dropped a few mentions of Abigail into the conversation and Matthew didn't bite. So, maybe no relationship here then. The third time he sees Matthew he tries out calling him "Em" and Matthew responds with a sweet smile. Alright then. In this world he has this particular knave (of hearts) still up his sleeve to play. 

...............

'What was that with you and the coffee and Dr Lecter?'

'Hmm, what Jimmy?'

'Bev, the coffee. Dr Lecter'

'Oh right. Yeah. Well. It just seemed polite. You know. He's the new Will Graham'

'You said that this morning' Jimmy and Brian both laugh 'he didn't do the whole whizzy thing though'

'Nah. Offered to buy us all a round, gotta be said Will's never done that'

'True story. So, is he going to?'

'Buy us a drink? I said we'd all go out when the case closed. He gave me his card, check it out'

Bev holds up the thick vellum feel card with embossed lettering. High thread count. A lovely thing. 

'Smooth isn't he?'

'Gorgeous'

'Jimmy!'

....................


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visitors, of different shades and intents, with unexpected outcomes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit off canon, but only a smidgeon, a smidgeon I say.
> 
>  
> 
> I used to think a smidegeon was a kind of small pigeon. I was quite gullible as a child. Hmmm. Still am.

'Ok Will, how's it going in here? Bit dark isn't it?' Jimmy Price opens up a folding chair and sits outside Will's cell.

'Hey Jimmy, yeah it's to under stimulate everyone. You know? People management through environmental control. How are you?' Will comes closer to the bars and sits on the floor, feet out in front of him, hands behind him, relaxed.

'I'm alright. Thanks. I've got to ask you a few things. Is that ok?'

'Of course. I guess Jack sent you?'

'Sort of. Actually Bev encouraged us to drop by. Do the decent thing. Brian will be along in a bit'

'Really? Well that's astonishingly nice of you both. Thank you. What can I help you with?'

Jimmy blinks, shit, he feels a bit bad now, for the jokes? At Will's expense, even though he wasn't there to hear, 

'Ok. Thanks. We got a new case come in. Six bodies, in a river, Maryland, resin coated or something, rotting from the inside out. Injected with silicon by the look of it'

'Like models? Fish get mounted that way?'

'That's what Dr Lecter said'

'He was there?' 

Will puts his head to one side, considering, Jimmy glances at him more closely,

'Yeah. Jack got him in to consult, psychological profile. You know. His thing. Bev said he was practising being the 'new' Will Graham'

'Did she? To him? Ok then. So, how did that make him feel do you think?' 

he smiles, makes sure Jimmy knows he's teasing, low hanging psychiatric fruit and everything

'Funny guy. Apart from looking faintly nauseated, like there was a nasty smell under his nose, which, to be fair, there was, he seemed to be ok. Said we might have got the discard pile. He and Jack had quite a long conversation about it. You know? What the technique involved. How the guy might be practising. That we could probably expect one or two more floaters. Upstream, maybe. The bodies are interesting though, no single ethnicity, or age, or gender. Total mixed bag'

Will nods agreement 'yeah, interesting. Is he looking for a set of some kind? Is he collecting do you think?'

'Right. I understand. Ok, I'll think about that. Bev's got some photos, she might be able to bring them by later' 

he looks a question at Will who nods 

'how are you Will? Jack says it was encephalitis? Is that's what's been going on?'

'It hasn't helped!' 

He smiles though, to soften the words. None of this is Jimmy's fault after all 

'but it's often pretty bad anyway. Sorry if I've caused you any grief. I might have been a bit oblivious. I know I can get like that' 

the smile is a little sad now, Jimmy considers him

'Bev said you were a bit different. Is that the illness too?'

'Probably, in part. But in the most immediate sense this is a hell of a lot less stressful than being in a scene, with some shit-heel killer pursuing every thought. The underlying stress is still there. I'm' 

he searches for an appropriate word or phrase,

'frankly terrified! But. And this is a surprisingly big deal I've no immediate stressors, and the encephalitis is being treated. It could be a lot worse'

Jimmy looks at him in surprise 

'you sound almost, I don't know, accepting of it?'

'Well. Overall I'm not really feeling it. I know I didn't do what they said. Pretty damn sure. But, being here means' 

and he gestures around him 

'well, let's say, some things can't get me here. And I miss out on being in people soup. I'm also pretty sure I'm a bit closer to being myself again' 

he chuckles and says very quietly 

'as long as I can keep Chilton out of my head!'

Jimmy laughs. Will has a momentary flash that in his world Jimmy and Chilton are an item. Have been for almost two months, Will considers 

'Jimmy, actually, Frederick has his good sides, have you met him at all. I think you might get on?'

'Are you trying to set me up from inside the BSCHI? Will Graham you naughty man'

'I think that's kind of the point of the whole inmate thing'

Jimmy, god help him laughs out loud with Will.

..............

In the afternoon the science team are gathered round the floaters laid out on six autopsy tables. Jimmy is recounting his visit with Will in the BSCHI. They're all laughing when both Jack and Dr Lecter appear.

'Alright' Jack is not entertained 'pull your selves together. What's funny?'

'Sorry Jack. Just talking about Will, he called this "people soup"'

Hannibal blinks just once, was that some sort of reference to him?

'He have anything useful to contribute? Or did he just jerk you around?'

Jimmy stops smiling 

'It was useful. He said we're looking at a collector. The perp, or unsub, or whatever we're calling them this week wants some kind of set. He agreed this was the discards. And hard to see the positive from the negative sometimes (Hannibal blinks again, this time internally), but he's got some ideas. He's up for seeing the pictures'

'Yeah? Ok. Bev, take him the photos. Anything else he needs for it? Let him have it. Chilton gives you any grief tell me. Got it?'

'Sure Jack. What about the other stuff?'

'Ripper?'

She nods,

'Alright. But this takes priority. People Soup?' 

He chuckles and the team smile. Dr Lecter projects a kind of blankness. Bev looks at him wondering. Surely if he was at all bothered about Will he would have something to say about this. Something. Anything. She's aware she might have telegraphed this thought when he says

'I'm glad to hear good Will hasn't lost all sense of purpose during his incarceration. He can still make use of his formidable mind even in these circumstances'

Jimmy and Bev glance at each other and Jimmy sharply says

'We probably shouldn't underestimate just how bad the BSCHI is for Will's mental or physical health. Really. He's not having a good time'

There's a pause. It's unusual for Jimmy to be anything other than mild or gently enthusiastic about some bit of scientific esoterica. He sounds pretty vehement now.

'Of course' Dr Lecter says smoothly 'I apologise if I inferred otherwise. He also seemed to me more stable when I saw him last'

Bev bites her tongue and smiles vaguely. Jack claps his hands together

'Alright then. That's enough chatter. Let's get on'

...............

'Hello Mr Graham, how are you today then? Got some lunch for you here. Gotta eat you know, keep your strength up. Can give you a choice of tea or tea with it. You got a preference?'

This is almost a point of humour between them. Matthew Brown often has the lunch shift and although the food is awful, somehow they manage to make the best of the circumstances. Will considers it might well be the case that he is one of the more cogent inmates and consequently one of the few people the orderlies or guards can have a conversation with that makes some kind of actual sense. Even Abel Gideon is a few scalpels short of an operation. And he's not back yet. Will's interested in how that might go.

'I think I'll take tea please. And what delicious repast have we today to accompany the fine beverage?'

'It's what I like about you Mr Graham. Willing to have a bit of a joke. Friendly like. It's a good thing in here. If you're broke you stay broke. But if you're not. Well, keep your chin up. Makes it less likely the place will break you. Before you get out, that is'

'Thanks Em. I'm going to try. Keep going, you know?'

'Your doc is coming later, he's on the visitor list'

Will's face falls 'on. Thanks for letting me know Em'

'What's up with that' Matthew looks at him sharply 'he no good for you?'

Will considers, Matthew has a kind of yearning underneath all the hard exterior. He's a romantic. Will knows he could use that. But abuse it? It wouldn't be fair. What ever else is the fuck going on he's got to hang on to the person he truly believes himself to be. 

'Honestly? I just don't know. I've been ill for months really and he says he didn't know about it. He took me to see a specialist who said I was clear. Turns out I've had encephalitis all this time. I feel sure he knew. But I don't know why he wouldn't say? I mean. What would be the point?'

'Landed you in here didn't it?'

'Sure, I'm carrying the can for this girl's disappearance, and some other murders too. So maybe that's the point. But why?'

'He do it?'

'Well, that's the million dollar question isn't it. I can't really see that either. I just don't know. But here I am'

'Sounds manipulative. He controlling?'

'I don't know. I mean, I saw him for work related psychiatric stuff, at first, I thought we got on together, had a lot of interesting conversations. You know? We did stuff together sometimes. He cooked some great meals for me. It was friendly. He said we were friends. Close' Will hesitates for several moments 'I guess some people might call us lovers. But definitely friends. I don't have a lot so, so it was nice. Doesn't feel like it now. Shame. I kind of miss it. A lot, really. The connection. Him. How he was'

Will shakes his head, sighs. And a good portion of that is filled with genuine feeling. He does miss his Hannibal, very badly, not this shell of a man he's seen. Like a Hannibal golem. Still. He better gird up his loins, prepare.

'Well. That's no good is it? You need to talk, you talk to me. I don't look it, but I'm a good listener. A good friend too. Helpful like'

'Thanks Em. I really appreciate that. Thanks for lunch too. What is it do you think?'

Matthew looks at the all in one meal tray and laughs

'Your guess is as good as mine Mr Graham. As good as mine' he grins.

..................

'So how is it with Will? What do you think?'

'With Will? I haven't seen him since he was transferred. I might go tomorrow. I've got the dogs now. Picked them up yesterday. Animal control had them. Not a happy prospect. But they're great, really great'

Alana and Beverly have bumped into each other in the cafe at Quantico, Alana is covering the rest of Will's classes for the semester. Bev is just in need of something that smells of coffee and not people soup. More immediately Alana has just come from a meeting with Agent Crawford and Dr Lecter. It hadn't been a smooth interaction. 

Bev and Alana don't know each other particularly well. Polite colleagues. No more than. But maybe with some fellow feeling, especially now.

'I think he probably misses them a lot. Dogs before people and everything. What's his place like?'

'Remote. Isolated. Plain, nice actually. Very Will. Books. Fishing stuff, piano, cds, bits of engine, mechanical things. A mix of hyper tidy OCD and in some ways laid back disorganisation. You didn't do the search then?'

'No. processed him'

Alana looks at her horrified 'they made you process a colleague? Price and Zeller too?'

Beverly nods. Alana reaches across and squeezes Bev's hand around her cup

'Who ever made that decision it was a shit one!'

'It's ok. At least it meant Will had someone he knew touching him'

'Fuck'

'Yeah. A bit. I've seen him. A few times'

'And?'

'I don't know what. But something's happened'

Alana looks at her 'don't enable him Bev. He has to face this'

Beverly looks at her 'sure. What? What does he have to face?'

'That he did this. That he murdered Abigail. That he might have killed those other people'

'Uh huh. You think that do you? Everything you know about Will Graham, well or ill says he did this, does it?'

Alana is slightly surprised by Bev, she's not that close to Will is she? Why would she know anything, except she has seen all the evidence. And Will.

'I don't know. But he did something'

Bev leans towards Alana 'encephalitis Alana. And yes it might just mean he didn't know he did anything, but what about that he didn't do it, or he just can't remember what he did do or didn't. And that's going to suit someone else isn't it?'

'What do you mean?'

'If. And I know it's a fucking enormous if, but if he didn't do it, this sure suits whoever did' 

she pauses 'so, his place, like him would you say?'

'Yes, there are some ways in which he is utterly routinised, systematic, compulsive. And others where he's.....'

Bev smiles a little 'less easy to pin down?'

Alana nods slowly 'I liked him, sorry, like him. A lot. But. It's difficult. He had some, maybe romantic interest and basically I said no. I regret that now. I did then too. But. I might have spotted he was ill. If I'd paid the right kind of attention instead of thinking maybe, or maybe not...'

'What? That he was utterly unstable and weird?'

'Give it to me with both barrels why don't you?'

'Yeah. Sorry. I'm just sorry I wasn't a bit nicer to him either. But he is different now. Surprisingly. You should go see him. Tell him about the dogs. He misses them.'

'Beverly, would you, I know this is a big ask, would you come with me?'

Bev can see why Alana might ask, she takes pity on her 

'Yeah. Alright. Why don't we grab some food after or before, sneak it in?'

'Sneak it in? Oh. Shit. I have to keep telling myself he's in prison. It's called a hospital, but really? It's a prison isn't it. Really?'

'Yes. And it really feels like it. You been in the basement before?'

'Only the cages. Abel Gideon. For a survey'

'It's bad'

'I can't believe it's my friend in there. He's a sweet guy underneath it all, really'

'Not so far underneath actually'

................

 

'Hello Will'

Hannibal Lecter sets up the folding chair that Barney the orderly on duty gives him, so that he might sit opposite Will's cell. 

'Hello Dr Lecter'

'Lost in thought Will?'

'No. not lost, I didn't really expect to see you today. I thought you'd be busy with the scene'

'We should always make time for our friends Will'

Will ducks his head at this. He comes to a standstill and sits on the chair beside the table. He could sit on the floor but, well maybe not with this Hannibal. He shakes his head a little, grimaces slightly. He still doesn't know what tack to take with this Hannibal. He'd like to be his usual self, the one he knows, KNOWS himself to be. But to be so risks the demoralising effect of rebuttal or, and it's possibly worse somehow, bafflement.

He looks at Hannibal 

'you know I used to hear my thoughts inside, with my own voice. The same tone, timbre, accent, the words and the rhythm? The music of it. But that changed. Now my inner voice sounds like you. That was a good thing. You know? You got inside me' 

he stops, then laughs a small sad laugh 

'now? now I can't get you out of my head'

He sighs, notes his voice is almost bitter again. Maybe this Hannibal eats bitterness. Like that awful story Alana got from Margot about the two dogs, hate and love, in an endless fight to the death, which one will win? Whichever one you feed.

Hannibal looks at him some more 'friendship can sometimes involve a breach of individual separateness'

'Oh, really? Really?'

He doesn't sound sarcastic, more as though he's disappointed that Hannibal would be so lame,

'you're not my friend. The light of friendship won't reach us for, I don't know, a million years? That how far from friendship we are'

'I imagine it's easier to accept I am responsible for these murders than to accept that you are?'

'Sure is' he says quickly but then adds 'maybe? No. actually. Not really'

'Your inner voice can provide a method for controlling your behaviour, accept responsibility for what you've done. Giving your thoughts words gives clarity'

'Oh I have clarity. About you' he sighs again,

Hannibal looks just a trifle smug,

'It's a shame really'

Hannibal frowns, he opens his mouth, pauses, 'go on'

'I know you thought that what we were doing was me opening my eyes to the truth of who I am, but it worked both ways. You were opening your eyes too! To the truth of who you are. I'm sorry you're unwilling now. What I did to you, is in your head. You wanted in? You got in. And I was glad. Am glad. But it goes both ways. You're going to realise this, Dr Lecter, you're going to remember. And when you find it. Well, we will both have some kind of reckoning'

Hannibal considers 'I have huge faith in you Will, I always have'

'You need faith in yourself too Dr Lecter, don't forget that'

Hannibal is about to say something more, instead he stands and looks again at Will and frowns. The words that came to him sounded so uncannily like Will in his own head, that he pauses again as he picks up the chair. Still says nothing and turns on his heel looking about as discombobulated as Will has ever seen. Which isn't to say much in terms of outward expression.

Inside Hannibal Lecter all is turmoil.

...................

Frederick Chilton stands gazing at the painting above the mantel in Hannibal Lecter's dining room. A woman, being assaulted by a swan. Chilton shifts his shoulders, it's probably some classical thing. That would be about Hannibal's style. A swan? Really? He turns his mouth down.

'Salted and ash baked celeriac. Frederick you have sorely tested me. It's very rare I cook a meatless meal'

Hannibal places two beautifully arranged meals. Frederick pulls his chair out, resting his silver topped cane against the edge of the table. They sit opposite one another.

'I lost a kidney' 

he doesn't quite sound proud, but it's close 

'I have to watch my protein intake'

'You didn't lose it Frederick, it was taken from you'

Well, touché Hannibal, Frederick thinks. 

'I remain impressed by your recovery'

Frederick smiles a thin smile 'one can grow to love beets'

He shakes out his napkin and settles it on his lap, his host mirrors his actions and takes a mouthful of wine.

'Alana Bloom and Beverly Katz were visiting with your former patient today'

This is interesting, Hannibal pauses momentarily as he places his glass back on the table. 

'Will was never my patient you know'

'The irony is that he is my patient. But, well, he refuses to speak with me, so far. Thinks I'll fumble with his head'

'Will is going to be a challenge to any psychiatrist'

'It's a disappointment, he's a prize patient, or should be'

'How was their visit Frederick, Dr Bloom, Agent Katz. I didn't know they were acquainted'

'Oh you know. Common cause and all that' 

he waves a hand airily, Hannibal is mildly irritated he'd rather have more specifics but it's better not to press, show his hand 

'Dr Bloom offered to hypnotise him, help him retrieve his memories. This is delicious by the way'

Hannibal smiles, despite Frederick's lamentable lack of a kidney the celeriac dish is still people, oh not enough to make him ill, just enough for Hannibal to smile at it.

'Oh, was she successful?'

'Well, it's sad to see such a brilliant psychiatrist fall for such hoary old chestnuts'

'She, I imagine they, want to believe him. I do too'

'You realise you're his favourite topic of conversation? Hannibal, Hannibal, Hannibal. Oh not to me of course, or Dr Bloom. But with the others who will listen. He tells everyone that you are, well, that you were his lover. His lover and friend'

Hannibal had been about to make some kind of joke, instead, what? This is unexpected. Will is saying? He had expected something about him being a killer, a monster under the bed, the stuff of bad dreams. Not this. At all. He reaches for something to rescue the moment,

'Well. Better that than dining with a psychopathic murderer Frederick'

It's a poor riposte and Chilton can't tell if it's a dig at his horrific encounter with Abel Gideon. In which case it is in poor taste. But this is Hannibal Lecter's table and he is the guest so he laughs politely as they both raise their glasses in a toast.

They pass on to less fraught topics of conversation.

All the while Hannibal considers what Will could possibly hope to attain by claiming this? What could be in his mind? He repeats the words Frederick says, he's disconcerted to discover they are already lodged in his mind in Will's distinctive voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next 'episode' "in the dimmest hour of day" coming soon! 
> 
> As well as the chapter from the AU that this is an AU of.
> 
> As soon as I've written three thousand sensible words about the Neolithic axe trade, and a presentation to go with it.


	5. Chapter 5

Beverly isn't sure if sitting opposite Will in a visitors room in the BSHCI is better than sitting opposite him in his cell in the basement. On the plus side, well, actually there isn't one. The down side? This is all sodding downside. Will grins at her

'Come on Katz, don't be a misery guts, do the do, show me the show. I wanna see the piccies'

She rolls an eye and levels him a look, 'her' Will Graham was never this cocky. Damn she thinks, there's only one Will Graham. Him and his other world theory is getting to her. She maintains her sardonic look,

'Yeah alright idiot. We've got all the original DMV photos, Jack said I could bring them in. What do you think?'

Will smiles at her, almost winks, 'what do I think or what do I see?'

Beverly rolls her eyes 'I thought it didn't work from photos?'

Will stretches his back with a couple of pops. 'Yeah. You're right it doesn't really. But with this little lot. Forget they're faces for a moment. What do you actually see. Come on Bev you're smart. What do you see?'

She scrutinises the pictures, they're all facing Will on the table so they're upside down for her. She starts to shift them and he lays a hand on hers. 'Katz no dogz, What do you see?'

She narrows her eyes, wtf Graham? "Katz no dogz" jeez. 'Different ages, faces, shapes, sizes, colour, shades' she looks up at him sharply

'See, you're smart aren't you'

'It's a colour palette?'

'Yes it is. That's how he's choosing them. For their skin tone. Nicely done Agent Katz'

She grins broadly, all irritation at his snark, if that's even what it is, is gone 'that's good Will. Jack will be pleased. I'll tell him'

Will smiles and shrugs 'don't worry about it Bev. He doesn't really care where it comes from as long as you get the guy. If it'll get you credit you should take it'

She looks at him and frowns 'but what about you? Don't go and be a martyr on me. Cooperation counts for something doesn't it?'

'Not really. You know I'm looking at the needle for this? Unless they really do decide I'm an intelligent psychopath, in which case this will be home sweet home for the unforseeable future. Hey don't look so glum Bev. It's not all bad. The guys on the block are ok. There are some nice orderlies. Even a couple of the guards don't make me fear for my rear. That's better, I can see you smiling'

She shakes her head a bit, 'Will. How are you doing this? You insist you've been set up, maybe by Dr Lecter. But you're making jokes. Is this your whole "other world" thing keeping you going? Is it? What happens if it's not real?' She catches her bottom lip between her teeth, worries at it

He grins broadly, 'Oh that's like the thing Chilton says "an optimist thinks this is the best of all possible worlds, and a pessimist believes this is true" it's a good saying isn't it? Look if I'm wrong, well, at least I can cheer myself up, if I'm right, it'll all be fine. That's win/win isn't it?'

'I have to say, honestly, the thing that most makes me think you're right about this other world dream thing is your optimism. The Will Graham I know was not a bundle of positivity and shining delight'

'Well he just sounds like a drag. Though in the other me's defence I would like to say one, encephalitis and two, being set up for murder. Gotta be a bit of a damper you know?'

Bev shakes her head again 'alright. Yeah. I better go. Did Z come in?' Will shakes his head 'ok. I think he's going to come later. Is that ok?'

'Beverly, sweet Beverly, my best Katz and Dogz, the more the merrier'

She smiles a kind of tentative provisional hopeful smile at him. Then let's it light her face. God. He's an idiot. But kind of, maybe, her idiot. Her friend?

When she's gone Barney Matthews the orderly comes to collect her chair 'Dr Graham you've got some mighty nice friends rooting for you. You can tell a person's calibre by the friends they keep. I'd say you have some pretty nice sides to you'

'There are a lot of great people around. I guess you don't get to see much of it here. But you know even Miggs has his up side. I think. Sometimes'

He grins at Barney, who smiles slightly back. Will Graham is changing things on this block, just a little. 

.................

Hannibal glances at the clock, it is just past 7:30pm. He takes a slow breath in. Will Graham won't be here this evening. And yet. He feels compelled to wait. As though he might. The empty chair looms large. 

What would he say to Will if he were to walk through the door, sling his bag on the floor, his jacket on the couch. What would he say if Will sat down and passed some amused remark about the ridiculous day he's just had, the crazy thoughts he's had, the terrible things pursuing him from behind his eyes. What would he do if Will just was.

It's rare to almost never that Hannibal Lecter wonders about the wisdom of some of his actions. Will Graham is useful. A prescription for these troubled times. A solution. An application. Hannibal has seen Jack Crawford use him and abuse him again and again. With Will's cooperation and complicity. 

Just this moment though Hannibal regrets that he too has commodified Will Graham, has ascribed to him a functional and utilitarian role. It places him firmly in the same camp as Jack. Will Graham has become currency, what has been paid in exchange for Hannibal's ongoing dalliance with the world. Hannibal isn't best pleased with himself. It trivialises Will. It betrays Hannibal's baser priorities. It's an uneven exchange.

In particular now that Will himself implies that he thought their rate of exchange was rather something more. Hannibal doesn't think much of the currency of love, but what Will represents is more profound and substantial. Significant. On the mantelpiece is a mended tea cup. Hannibal knows it's unbroken partner is in the kitchen back at the house. He thinks it's possible that he should re-unite them.

He recognises his own frustration, and the shape of something he thinks might be irritation with Will. For being complicit, trusting, open. For being vulnerable. For laughing. For listening. For joining in. For friendship, and a tentative offer of something more. For doing all the things that Hannibal asked of him. And for utterly failing to recognise what was happening, failing to recognise Hannibal's design. 

And for his disappointment. He is annoyed that Will is disappointed. He wants to despise it. Such futility. But he cannot. Will is disappointed in him, with him, and Hannibal feels the sting of it. Will Graham has taken up residence in his head. And is squatting.

....................

Lying on his cell cot Will gazes up at the ceiling. He wonders if in this weird version of the world he is in if there is some kind of meaning to be ascertained from the stains and marks to be found there? Some kind of constellation to map his new trajectory against or to?

Matthew stopped by half an hour ago, Alana is going to visit later. Good. He's beginning to have a better handle on their interactions in this world in the past. Bev has clued him in a little, from what little she knows, even Jack has provided a few accidental drops of insight. In his half awake state he is struck by a memory from a few months ago...

"'Alana Bloom, Hannibal, Alana Bloom. She kissed me!'

Hannibal looks at Will, looking a little more wild than usual, standing, no shaking, in his entrance hall way running his hands through his hair. Making it stick up.

'Come in then' he says with a look that is pure Hannibal. All front and something else going on behind his mask.

Will dashes past him into the kitchen. Hannibal almost strolls after him, intending to return to what he was doing, ah Tobias Budge has gone. Probably a good thing.

Will walks backwards and forwards across the kitchen, looking shocked and annoyed. But becomes aware that Hannibal is plating two desserts.

'Oh. Oh. I'm so sorry, you have company'

'A colleague, they've been called away to an emergency. His misfortune is your gain' Hannibal gestures with the plated dessert, almost waggling it tantalisingly under Will's nose

Will smiles somewhat abashed. All he could think of when Alana kissed him was how to extricate himself from the kiss and make sure he told Hannibal before Alana did. Ok, he can calm down now. He's told Hannibal. He got there first. He takes a deep breath and takes the dessert plate being handed to him.

'Thank you'

'Perhaps it was a clutch for stability? For those things she represents to you?'

Will frowns as he eats the delicious morsels he's chasing round his plate. How does Hannibal do it? When does he even have time?

'Wait a sec. Wait. I didn't kiss her. She's very kissable, I can sort of imagine wanting to kiss her. But I didn't. She kissed me!' He makes a slight moue of distaste, which Hannibal catches.

Hannibal blinks. 'She kissed you? I understood you harboured some romantic feelings for Dr Bloom?'

'Is that what she said?' 

Hannibal briefly nods his assent 

'no. No. Nope. Not at all. I told her I wasn't interested, ok I made it sound nicer than that, but I basically said I was interested in....' 

he shuts up and takes a larger mouthful of dessert 

'this is amazing by the way. Thank you.' 

Shit. He almost said it. Shit. It's way too soon to tell his fucking psychiatrist he's got a bit of a thing for him. Ok, ok, god. More than a bit of a thing. And now this. He'll fucking kill Alana. Well not actual dead but something close.

'And you have come to me, in great haste and worry. Why is that do you think?'

Hannibal eats his own dessert. It is excellent. He watches Will who is focussing now on scraping the design off the plate with his spoon. This is, what? He sees Will make some decision.

'I'm so sorry. I was upset by what she did, what she said. You're a great source of strength to me. I felt thrown off balance. I was seeking, maybe some fixed point? I know you're more than my psychiatrist. I'm afraid I took advantage of that. I apologise. Not very professional of me'

Hannibal smiles at his reference to their first one to one conversation.

'I understand Will. It's quite alright. My home is always open to friends.'"

Lying where he is on his cell cot Will opens his eyes. That's not quite right. That's not quite what happened. Alana did kiss him, but that was just before the case with the organ killer. He didn't go to Hannibal's house at all. Did he? No? No. He didn't. They'd just about been fully committed then. This wasn't how this played out at all. He'd talked to Beverly on the phone. He'd had to hide in the bathroom. He snorts. It is funny, now, looking back. God it wasn't at the time.

And this? This is a reworking of that memory. A kind of mash up. Uh oh. Will thinks. Uh oh. I don't like this. Not one little bit. What he remembers isn't what everyone else remembers. What if his memories are re-aligning to fit this new world? But, it's not that is it? It's not quite that. He's overlaying some of his memories on this world. Not the other way round. Oh. Hot damn! This is going to be... ok. Will this mean it changes for everyone else too? Or just him? What if he writes over everyone else's memories?

He sits up sharply and swings his feet onto the floor. Can he change the past to align more closely with what he thinks is the present? Can he? How will he know? He smiles a bit. He thinks of all the people he encounters here. He'll know. But how does he do it? Does he have to remember the new version of the memory. Dream it? Think it? Talk about it? He and Beverly? Already there's been some changes in their interactions and he's had glimpses of how they used to be. Fuck. This is like Hannibal's bloody crazy teacup theory. Isn't it? Oh my god.

..................  
Well Alana looks much as she's always done. When she reaches across the table and clasps his hands he has an instant desire to pull back. Ok. So. How's this going to go? For a moment a look of confusion crosses her face. He watches her carefully. Decides to start on neutral territory

'Hey Alana' 

She smiles tightly at him

'Will'

Ah, he thinks, this is why she brought Beverly yesterday. Not ok with him at all

'How are the dogs?'

She manages a smile

'Good. They keep running away though. Especially Winston. He's looking for you'

'Well' he breathes around the words 'at home? He's not going to find me there'

She sighs a little 'not today, maybe some day, with the right defence'

'I don't currently have any defence, or any representation'

'Will, you have to stop firing your lawyers!' 

She maintains eye contact, always with the eye contact. He sighs 

'Alana, they're the FBI lawyers. They're not mine. They don't have my best interests at heart they don't even listen to me'

Alana screws her face up with sincerity 'I'll find you a lawyer who's not affiliated with the FBI. but Will, how can they listen to you when you keep denying all the evidence. Everything that tells you...' she stops. They've already covered this territory a hundred times or more.

'Listen, you do a have a defence, a credible defence. One of automatism, allows a defendant to argue they shouldn't be held criminally liable for their actions due to unconsciousness'

'Unconsciousness. What? So I did it, these things, but I didn't know what I was doing? Alana'

'It's reasonable. It's an accepted defence. Your mind was on fire, you had no awareness of what you were doing, much less remember what you did'

'But only if I did it! I'm not admitting to something I didn't do. I can't. I know it'd be better for everyone but I won't. What if I could remember Alana, what if I could remember how this was done to me?'

'What if you remember how you did it?'

'So you believe Dr Lecter now?' He asks her quietly,

She gives an almighty sigh, Jack has filled her in on Will's questions about Hannibal, his accusations. And Hannibal has talked her through his own misery at not having spotted the depths to which Will was sinking. She knows he feels awful about it. It had made her feel renewed tenderness to her former mentor.

'I believe the Will Graham in front of me now isn't responsible for those actions'

He looks at her some more. Well, he thinks, if he's right, then on this occasion Alana is actually right. This isn't the same Will Graham. Oh. He thinks. Oh? Is the Will Graham from this world in his world? Woah. If he is, that would be wild! And possibly deeply terrifying, for the other Will who by the sound of it doesn't cope well with pretty much anything. At least, not after his mind caught fire.

After she's gone Barney and two of the guards take him back to his cell. Tea cups be damned he thinks to himself, Alana's not that different yet. Yet.


End file.
